Say it with Flowers
by Avirra
Summary: Garcia starts getting gifts from an unknown source.  Written for the 2012 Valentine's Challenge.


Written for the 2012 Valentine's Challenge

Requested Character : Spencer Reid

Assigned Character : Penelope Garcia

Prompts : Candy hearts – Chocolate syrup - A dozen red roses - Edible panties/underpants - 'Can You Feel the Love Tonight' - 'I Wanna Sex You Up (All six used)

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><p><strong>Say it with Flowers<strong>

It all started on February the first. Wednesdays were not usually red-letter days for Penelope Garcia. Today proved to be different. Today, just after lunch, a delivery-man arrived with a box for her. A box that felt rather heavy for its size.

She signed for it, then quickly opened it up to view what proved to be its puzzling contents. It was a small, round wooden table - about ten inches across the center - with five wooden legs that were each carved to look like a dragon. As she lifted it to get a better look, a small piece of thick ivory paper fluttered to the floor.

Setting the wooden table back down, she reached down and picked up the note. As she unfolded it, she found the writing inside was done in a beautiful flowing calligraphy.

_Dragons are said to be heralds of good fortune. Let these dragons watch over your gracious self in your daily tasks and they will truly have the best fortune of their kind._

There were no clues any where as to who had sent it, but after a bit of thought, Garcia cleared a spot and placed it where she could look at it while she worked her magic on her computer.

Thursday saw another delivery man - this one with another box marked 'fragile'. Again she signed for the receipt of the box and again she hurried to open it.

Inside was a clear, weighted vase. The shape was rather like a teardrop, but the top flared out instead of coming to a point. A delicate spun-glass pink butterfly was attached. There was another note in the box that she lifted out after carefully setting the vase down on her desk.

_Butterflies are said to represent the delicate beauty of a woman. Rest the butterfly among the dragons as I rest my mind with thoughts of you._

One delivery to Garcia during the work week didn't gain much notice, but two days in a row meant both J.J. and Emily were poking their heads in through the door of the tech-goddess's lair. Conjecture as to who the mystery note writer might be followed immediately after the admiration of the gifts. No signature, no initials and definitely no clue from the calligraphy either.

Friday came and, with it, another delivery. This one from a florist. A single rose that had been tinted to a pale frosty blue. The same ivory paper had the newest note.

_A single rose to show my devotion even as it acknowledges that, like the stars, you are unobtainable._

Water was added to the butterfly vase and the single blue rose placed in it. It looked, Garcia decided, very lonely. She gave it a long look before turning out her lights in the office for the weekend.

When she came back in on Monday morning, she found not one, but six of the pale blue roses in the vase and a pair of notes propped at the vase's side.

Note one read :_ How sad the hours of the dragons when they must go without you. _

Then note two :_ How joyous for them will be the morning of your return._

Another delivery came after lunch – four orange roses.

_Cast aside the blue for the sun. Unobtainable still - but the light you give off fascinates always._

By now, the guys had started paying attention to the deliveries as well. Rossi leaned in as the blue tinted roses where removed from the vase and the orange ones given a home there.

"Have an admirer, Penelope?"

Garcia gave a smile over.

"So it would appear, sir."

Reaching out, Rossi took one of the blue roses.

"An impossible love."

Garcia turned away from the orange roses, looked at her desk drawer where the other notes had been put and then looked back at Rossi again. Had he read the notes?

"Pardon, sir?"

"Blue rose. One that doesn't exist in nature, so in flower talk, it stands for an impossible love."

"Flower talk? You've lost me."

Rossi smirked, then turned his head.

"Hey Reid. Step over here for a minute."

"Sure, Rossi. What is it?"

In answer, Rossi just handed Reid the rose. Reid just looked from the rose to Rossi and back down to the rose.

"Well, I'm glad it's blue and not lavender."

Rossi started laughing as Garcia looked confused.

"Our boy here is developing more of a sense of humor by the day. Reid, I was telling Penelope here a little about the way people used to talk with flowers."

Reid's eyes lit up the way that they always did when someone actually asked for him to talk about a subject.

"Oh yes – it was practically an art form at one time. You could set up secret meetings, propose marriage or tell someone to drop dead with just a bouquet. Of course, that meant just impulsively sending random flowers could give someone the entirely wrong idea. Like sending someone a mix of red carnations and Amaryllis blooms might send the message that you think they're flashy and over-dramatic."

Then he looked into Garcia's office.

"Nice roses. What's Morgan apologizing for?"

Both Garcia and Rossi started laughing at that and Reid just looked puzzled.

"What did I say?"

"Penelope here has an admirer."

"Sure she does. All of us, but what's that got to do with flowers?"

"Aww, you're sweet, my little genius. So, either of you flower palm readers able to tell me what orange roses mean?"

"Actually, there can be several meanings, so you'd need to know the context of the giver. Orange is a mix of yellow and red - yellow can be friendship and red can be love, so an orange can either be friendship turning into love, love turning in friendship or simply a deep, abiding friendship. On the other hand, orange is also a symbol of fascination and admiration - kind of a floral way of saying 'I'm proud of you' or 'I'm amazed by you'."

Reid looked back at the flowers, frowning slightly.

"Four. I don't remember ever reading any significance about the number four."

Garcia just stared at him.

"The number of flowers have a meaning too?"

"Oh sure. Like I said, it was an art form. Two rose twined together - especially one red and one white - was a marriage proposal. Fifteen means you're begging to be forgiven."

Garcia looked back to her vase.

"The stand came on the first day of the month, the vase on the second, the first rose on the third – and these four today."

"And today is the sixth. Those other blue roses come today as well?"

"No. I guess they came over the weekend."

"Huh. Looks like they're adding a rose a day."

So saying, Rossi pointed to the rose Reid was still holding.

"Friday. Then two for Saturday, three for Sunday and four today. So it that's the pattern, tomorrow you should get five roses."

Garcia looked at her calendar.

"If that is what they're doing, that would mean a full dozen on Valentine's Day itself."

"You know, eleven is actually a more significant number, if not more common."

That even caught Rossi's attention.

"Why? What does a dozen mean?"

"Well, a dozen means either 'go out with me' or 'be my steady', both of which are appropriate enough for Valentine's, I suppose. But eleven roses mean 'you are the one that I will treasure forever' – so personally, I'd consider that more significant, wouldn't you?"

"Our boy here has a point, Penelope. So – Kevin maybe?"

"Doubtful for many reasons. One of them being that he'd consider a box of those pieces of heart shaped chalk pretending to be candy to be a bit much."

"And not Derek either?"

"You know I adore my Chocolate Adonis, but I don't think this level of romance is in his DNA."

Reid just chuckled at that.

"Okay then, so what would be his level?"

"Probably showing up on the doorstep with edible undies, a bottle of chocolate syrup and 'I Want to Sex You Up' on his MP3 player."

Rossi scrunched his nose a bit.

"There's a mental image I was in no need of."

"That makes two of – edible underwear? That doesn't sound very sanitary."

"If being worried about germs is utmost in your mind, sweetcheeks? The wrong person is wearing them."

Clearing his throat as he blushed, Reid headed back for his desk, much to the amusement of both Rossi and Garcia.

When five pale pink roses arrived on Tuesday, Morgan seemed amused. When six more slightly darker pink roses came the next day, he seemed less amused. Especially when J.J. started singing when she stuck her head into Garcia's office to admire the newest blooms.

"_Can you feel the loooooooooove tonight?"_

Laughing, Garcia offered J.J. some of the previous day's blooms as well as Emily. She certainly didn't mind sharing the wealth. The notes remained all her own though.

Thursday's bouquet was seven dark pink blooms and when eight yellow roses arrived on Friday, Morgan's attitude had switched to jealousy. A box of chocolate was left on her desk discretely before they left for the weekend.

On Monday, she found the nineteen other yellow roses – nine from Saturday and ten from Sunday. Gathering them all up into her arms, she buried her nose into the blooms and breathed in deeply. Emily and J.J. both happily shared in the bounty, but it was hard not to be a little envious. Especially when the delivery that afternoon was a bouquet of eleven creamy white flowers.

"I wonder what color your roses will be tomorrow, Pen. Are you saving any of them?"

Garcia gave a rare blush before she motioned Emily and J.J. over to her desk. She carefully opened the drawer, which currently contained thirteen ivory notes.

"For every one that came with flowers, I've taken one petal off per flower and put them in with their note."

"Awwww, that's so sweet."

Garcia looked down into the drawer with a warm smile on her face.

"These are happy memories. Sometimes around here after some cases? Happy memories get me through the day."

Valentine's Day arrived and Garcia's daily deliveries seemed to inspire the guys to all remember the day. Rossi came in with some sinfully delicious cannolis for everyone – Hotch brought in a cake to sit on the conference table for everyone to share – Derek arrived with a heart-shaped box of chocolates for each of the ladies and Reid came in with matching mixed bouquets of white gardenias, purple statice and white tuberose for Emily, J.J. and Garcia. When Garcia asked the meaning, Reid just smiled a little shyly.

"My wishes for the three of you this year. Gardenias for joy, statice for success and tuberoses for pleasure."

"That is soooo sweet."

He blushed quite a bit when all three ladies caught him for a hug.

That afternoon, a full dozen deep crimson roses arrived in a box and soon had taken their place in the butterfly vase which was just barely large enough to hold them all. Reaching into the box, she pulled out the note. This was likely the last and the moment had a bittersweet edge to it.

_Valentines has come at last. The dark blooms mourn for the things that can never be while celebrating that the feelings held for you will always endure and be treasured. In time, these blooms will fade. The feelings will not. You are rare, beautiful and precious. Now and for always._

Reid was passing by the door when he heard Garcia sniffling and grew concerned, tapping on her door for a second before sticking his head in.

"Hey – are you alright?"

She looked up at him with a damp, but radiant face.

"I'm better than alright, cupcake. Thanks. Oh, sweetie? Could you tell me what the really dark red means?"

Eyes shifting to take a look at the roses, Reid licked his lips as he thought.

"Kind of a mourning for the end of something. Sometimes they were used when two people had feelings for one another, but knew that because of other circumstances that they couldn't be together."

"Sort of like the love is there, but the world is in the way?"

"Yeah. That would be one way to translate it. A reminder that in spite of everything in the way, the love is there and endures."

As she joined Reid in looking at the roses, she took a deep breath of the rose-scented air and gave a wistful smile.

"I think this may easily be the nicest Valentine's Day I've ever had."

Reid reached over and gave her a hug before heading back out to refill his coffee, smiling to himself. He'd have to write to his mother about this. Her advice had been right. Sometimes flowers could speak louder than words.


End file.
